


heavy from the hurt inside my veins

by brilliantbanshee



Series: Season 2 Codas [3]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Spoilers for 2x02, Vignette, just each character trying to cope in their own way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee
Summary: In the wake of the volcano, the 126 reels and tries to heal. Coda to 2x02.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Grace Ryder/Judd Ryder (9-1-1 Lone Star)
Series: Season 2 Codas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169987
Comments: 17
Kudos: 89





	heavy from the hurt inside my veins

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this is sad. Everyone who read it for me before I posted it has cried, I cried while writing. Hope you decide to read it anyways 💕
> 
> Title from "I can’t carry this anymore" by Anson Seabra

_ Why not me? _

It was the question he had asked himself for the first time on September 12th, 2001. It was the question he had asked himself as he went from house to house, informing family after family that someone they loved would never be coming home again. 

Even as he had entered his own home: tired, worn, and hurting in so many ways, he had been unable to stop the question from floating through his mind again even as his son latched onto his waist with tears in his eyes and his wife hovered at the edge of the room, eyes full of fear and grief. Even as he assured TK that he was okay, that everything would be fine, even as he put out his free arm for Gwyn, holding her tight when she stepped into his embrace, he couldn’t help but wonder: why did he deserve to live any more than anyone else?

Thousands of people had died that day. He hadn’t known most of them but the ones he did know has been his family. They had been his brothers and sisters, and they were good people. He was not better than them, so why was he still here?

As time passed he asked himself the question over and over again. He asked it as he watched his marriage fall apart, he asked it as his son grew older and became better and better at hiding his disappointment when Owen wasn’t there. He asked it as he watched his family crumble because of him. It would have been kinder, he thought, if it had been him. For his family to not have to watch him fall apart, for him to not have to feel all of this. 

But it hadn’t been him, and it never was. 

The ash fell in slow spirals around him, drifting down into his backyard like snow. He watched it absentmindedly, one hand clutching his glass of tequila while the other stroked Buttercup. It was beautiful in a way the ash that had followed the collapse of the towers had never been. And just like then, he was sitting and watching with the same question. It had been a matter of feet rather than minutes this time. But just like last time, he had survived and someone else did not and he still didn’t know why. 

It had been so long, but the guilt felt familiar. He supposed that might be because it never truly left. 

He wasn’t better than Tim. If anything, the opposite was true. Tim had lived to help people, he had never hurt anyone. He was kind and sincere and completely dedicated to the work he did. He had helped save his son’s life, and Owen had never forgotten that. He was caring and funny and a good person. He had done nothing in his life to warrant being flattened by a flying, flaming, hunk of volcanic rock. If it had been something to do with fate or karma, Owen didn’t see it.

The only thing he is sure of is that he doesn’t deserve to be the one who always walks away. 

* * *

_ “Don’t make promises you can’t keep” _

It’s been hours now, and her words have haunted her ever since. Even as she had rushed over, even as she knew in her heart that they couldn’t save him; that there was no saving him, she thought those words. Now, in the quiet aftermath, they repeated in her head like an echo.  _ “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”  _ She had never promised Tim anything, explicitly, but there had been an implied promise as his captain: I am here for you, I will make sure you stay safe. 

And she hadn’t. She had failed in the most spectacular way possible. 

She knew, logically, that Judd was right. She knew that as hard as she tried, as much as she would have liked to, she did not have the power to stop an act of nature. She knew that there was no way this could have been changed, no way to avoid this. But that did change the facts: she had made a promise, and she had broken it. Just like she had scolded him for. 

Even now she felt like she was failing. She had lost a teammate, someone in her command. She had lost someone she was meant to look out for and here she was thinking of her own family and how this incident had reignited the fears she had had, reminded her of the reasons she hadn’t gone back in the first place. Even now she was letting him down, but she didn’t know how to stop. 

Picking up Buster and taking him in had been a peace offering. Perhaps it was small in the face of everything, but it was the only thing she could think to do. It was the only way she could think to help him now, like she should have before. So as she stroked the cat as he drank from the bowl, as she thought about her girls sleeping in the next room and of flaming rocks falling from the sky, she came to a conclusion that was small in the face of this all: her family now extended outside of the walls of her home and she would not let them down again. 

* * *

When it came to loved ones, sometimes being able to read people so well was a double-edged sword. Paul had always known when someone was lying, when they weren’t telling him the whole truth. He knew when they tried to hide things, and he knew right now that his team was hiding their collective hurt. 

Sure, they were grieving but he could tell that there was so much more to it than that. Each of them had a tension bubbling under the surface, something inside that was aching to burst out. He just hoped that they’d be able to survive the fallout. 

He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. Vaguely he realized that he was being a hypocrite; looking to problem solve for others rather than confront his own. Maybe that was the case but he couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered. These people meant more to him than just about anyone in the world and if making sure they were okay was what he needed to focus on now he could live with that. Everything else could wait. 

So he accepted the coffee from Marjan, who needed to look after others in the face of upset; it had been the same when TK was shot. He watched her cross to TK and place a hand on his shoulder as he sat quietly, his face blank but his head a cloud of emotions. He watched as Judd clutched the pillow to his chest, tightening his grip around it as he fought to stay present, to not make the connections between what they had just lived through and what he almost hadn’t. He listened to Mateo admit to an insecurity, knocked off balance by the sudden and expected shift in the equilibrium of their already unmoored lives. He asked if the Captain was okay when he was clearly not. 

He watched, he listened, he analyzed because it’s what he did. 

In the end they all dispersed. The Captain home to his ex-wife, Judd to Grace, TK to Carlos. Mateo mentioned something about going for a run, and the remaining two paramedics disappeared to the ambulance bay. All that was left was Marjan, looking unsure now that everyone was gone, that there was no one else for her to focus on. 

Marjan was someone he understood maybe even better than the rest. His fellow Austin transplant, they had bonded over the shared surrealism of leaving behind everything and everyone you had ever known to start fresh. He had learned, over time, that they had much more in common than simply being new to town. He had learned that they both looked to cope in similar ways, that they enjoyed using physical activity to quiet their minds, to work out whatever was frustrating them. 

So tonight when he gathered his things to go home, he grabbed his gym bag. He found Marjan in the kitchen, absentmindedly washing the dishes with a distant look in her eyes and once he had her attention, held up his boxing gloves in question. As they sparred in silence he allowed all his frustration to come out. As he held the bag for her to punch, he watched her do the same. And when she finally crumbled, hitting the point in which tears were the only outlet left, he held her, and shed a few of his own. 

  
  


* * *

The universe was determined to tear her family apart, and there is nothing she can do to stop it. At least, that’s what it’s starting to feel like. 

They had been lucky before. They had almost lost TK, they could have lost the Captain to cancer, but they hadn’t. They had been okay; her little family here in Austin had remained whole. And now they weren’t, and she didn’t know if they would ever be again. 

She didn’t want to dwell on the questions. She didn’t want to think about all the ways the universe had let them down, she didn’t want to ponder questions of faith. So instead she focused on her team - or, what remained of it. She checked in on them all, brought coffee to Paul, offered silent support to TK, leant her closeness to Judd. Tim may not have been as close to her as these people, but he was still a part of this station and therefore still a part of her family. He was still someone she saw almost everyday, someone she relied on. To have him so suddenly gone, to have his life ended so suddenly and violently had shaken her to her core. 

She showered and changed after they were dismissed and headed to the kitchen, watching as they other dispersed with plans or destinations in mind. She had none. She didn’t know where to go and she didn’t know what to do. She knew the others were coping, falling back on their support systems outside the firehouse. She didn’t have one of those. The firehouse was her family, they were her support system. So instead of facing the question, she busied herself instead. She washed dishes that strictly speaking may have been clean while she tried to figure out the next step. When Paul appeared with boxing gloves in hand, she could have kissed him. 

Now as they sparred and she put all her anger and fear and frustration into each punch, she felt the dam break. When the tears came, she wasn’t surprised. When Paul pulled her into his arms and let her cry into his shoulder she felt a little better. Not for the crying, but for the proof: their family was still here. Maybe they could still be okay after all. 

* * *

He had been quiet, since it happened. 

Marjan had commented on it, Paul had asked if he was okay. He had nodded, but he hadn’t said a word. He was too ashamed to admit what his first thought had been, what feeling had rushed through him when he had realized who was under that flaming rock. 

He didn’t want to admit that he had been relieved to see Tim’s prone form smoldering under the volcanic rock, because it meant it wasn’t his dad. 

Everything had happened so fast; there had been fire and flying debris everywhere. He had ducked with Marjan, turning away from the scene only to hear shouts and the sound of someone calling for his dad. His heart had jumped into his throat and in the first few split seconds that he had turned all he had seen was a turnout coat peeking out under a large chunk of volcanic debris, and he had feared the worst. 

He had spent most of the past year terrified he would lose his dad to cancer. They had had the good news about that for just days now, and the idea of losing him in a volcano after all of that was too much and far too soon. So when the figure next to the rock had picked themselves up and TK had seen the red captain’s emblem on the helmet, the relief that had washed over him was all-consuming. When he heard Nancy’s scream, the guilt had followed instantly. 

He knew if he explained it he would be forgiven, but he didn’t want their absolution. Tim had been his friend, his teammate. Tim hadn’t deserved to die, and he certainly hadn’t deserved that reaction. He was mourning Tim’s loss, he knew that things at the station would never be quite the same ever again. But in the moment that he had felt a sense of absolute relief and even thankfulness and now, in the moments and hours following, he couldn’t shake the guilt. 

It followed him as he left the station, still clinging to him even after a shower and a change of clothes. It lingered even now, after he had checked in with his dad and started the trek to the one place he truly wanted to be right now. It followed him as he went, opting to walk the mile rather than inflict his presence on any unsuspecting uber driver. It was weighing on him by the time he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He sighed as he turned, planning on quietly sneaking up the stairs, on sliding into bed besides his boyfriend to savor his calming presence.

But he turned and found that wouldn’t be necessary. Carlos was waiting on the stairs, a sympathetic look on his face. For an instant, TK was surprised, but it didn’t last. Of course Carlos knew, or course he had known TK would come here. TK knew he was anything but a mystery to Carlos Reyes. 

Carlos held out a hand and TK headed towards it gratefully. But the guilt weighed on him more and more with each step and by the time he reached Carlos he was falling, sinking to the ground and into his embrace. The guilt and shame were pressing on him as if he was suddenly at the bottom of the ocean and now that he was somewhere safe, somewhere he could fall and not be lost, it overtook him. 

He curled into Carlos’s chest, wrapping a hand around his arm even as he felt his boyfriend press a light kiss to the top of his head, his strong and safe arms tightening around him. Soon he would have to explain; soon he would have to tell Carlos why he didn’t have the strength to move another step, why they were here on the stairs instead of up in his bed. But for the moment he was content to sit here, safe and secure in the security of Carlos’s home and his arms as finally, he let the grief and the shame out. 

* * *

When he left the station Paul had asked where he was going. He had told him for a run, because he didn’t have another answer. All he knew is that he didn’t want to stay here. The station felt like a grave and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. Going home wasn’t an option: how did you explain to your roommates who had never faced anything more stressful than a low grade that you had lost someone today? That you had lost someone that felt just as much like family to you as your own family? 

He briefly considered going to his parents, seeking the comfort of his childhood home. But he nixed that idea as well; he didn’t want them to worry. His mother worried about him and his job enough as it was. He didn’t need to add the visualization of a teammate dying within feet of where he had been standing to her nightmares. 

In the end, he ran. 

He set off with no particular destination in mind, simply letting his feet carry him through the city. He jogged straight through the sunrise, and when he finally stopped in the dim morning’s light and saw his destination, he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

As he took in the steeple of the church above him, he felt a little bit more at peace. He couldn’t go home, but he could still get a piece of it. Growing up the church had practically been a second home, after all. He stepped into the church quietly and settled into a pew in the back. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t make a move to offer a prayer or seek out someone to talk to. He was content to sit in the quiet comfort, absorbing the calm familiarity after a day that had changed so much more after a year full of it.

And in the quiet familiar calm, he let himself rest and reflect. 

  
  


* * *

The flames had been too similar. 

That was the only thought he had as he sat on the back of the couch, watching the others distantly, worrying the pillow in his arms. 

The flames had been high and bright and loud, just like that day. 

If he closed his eyes long enough, he could go back there. He had been doing better but it was still there and today had brought it closer to the surface. So he focused on his team instead, on the people before him, on the family he was determined to protect. 

He hadn’t, tonight; but he would be damned if he didn’t succeed with everyone he had left. 

That was his role, after all. Judd the big brother; Judd the protector. Grace had once told him he was like a shield: determined to put himself between those he loved and harm, no matter the cost. He had joked a few dings in his armor would make him look more rugged, but she hadn’t laughed. “Remember that those people you are so determined to protect need you in one piece too,” she had told him softly, successfully ending any debate on the topic. There was no arguing with her, not on this. 

Even so, he would be damned if he let a single one of them fall on his watch. 

He took them all in, their various expressions of shock and grief. He answered their questions, offered reassurances and the hard truths: nothing anyone could have done could have prevented this, and there was nothing anyone could have done to save him. That was his job, after all. As the rest of them dispersed he sought out Tommy, he talked her off the ledge. He needed her to know that she was good at what she did, and that this didn’t change that. Nothing could ever change that. 

Eventually, they all parted ways and he headed home. Stepped into the silent house, dropping his bag and shedding his jacket before heading to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to take in the sight of Grace peacefully sleeping. 

He entered the room quietly, not wanting to wake her. He craved her comfort but she deserved to sleep, so he would settle for her presence right now. He slid into their bed and placed a gentle hand on Grace’s hip, needing the contact, needing the comfort. There was no one left to focus on now and without the distraction of others to distract him, the fear and anguish - both fresh and familiar - came back to the surface. She reached around without a word, pulling his hand into her own and wrapping their joined hands around her body. In the darkness, out of others to worry about, the tears finally started to come. 

Judd Ryder was a shield. He needed to be strong, to be the barricade that protected those he loved from all the bad in the world. It was all he had ever wanted to do. But he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

  
  


* * *

Nancy didn’t want to go home. 

Home was filled with too many memories, home was filled with silence and solitude. Home was filled with reminders that she was alone now, that the only person who had always been there wasn’t here anymore. 

Home was just another reminder that her best friend, the one person she had always been able to count on, was gone and that he was never coming back. 

Paramedics were like firefighters in so many ways, but there was one way in which they had always differed: a firefighter always knew that running into a burning building carried a risk. They made their peace with that and carried that knowledge with them everyday. Paramedics were different. Paramedics worked outside the flaming structures, at the edge of the car accidents. Paramedics healed the people the firefighters rescued, they didn’t often do the rescuing. Sure there was risk just by being there, sure there was just as much risk as any other person faced on a day to day basis. Paramedics were not the ones to run into the heart of danger, they were the ones that patched up the people who came out. 

Nancy had been a paramedic for years, and she had worked with Tim the entire time. They had both lost people before - they had both lost their entire station, once upon a time. They had both stood at the edge of the destruction and watched as the people they spent everyday with were taken, and it had just been them, Michelle, and Judd left behind. Then the new crew had come in to replace the old one, Michelle had left, and life moved on but Tim had always been there. Nancy had never pictured a time when he would not be. 

In the aftermath she had sat at the edge of the group, a spectator to the close knit family of firefighters wondering how she was supposed to move on here without her other half. She liked the crew and felt welcomed by them, but it was so different being on her own. There was a gulf between them that she didn’t know how to bridge. 

Now she cleaned out his locker, packing up his personal effects to be shipped back to his family in Baltimore, feeling just a little bit more of her composure fall away with each item she placed in the box. Captain Strand had offered to have someone else do it, someone from a different shift with no tie to Tim, but it hadn’t felt right to her. He was her best friend and she owed him so much, this was the very least she could do. So she folded his clothes, took down his picture of Buster Keaton, and shared some of the burden with Captain Vega. Then the Captain left and she was alone again, sitting in the ambulance bay on her own. She didn’t want to go home. 

But she had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to so eventually, she packed up her bag, and went home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://marjansmarwani.tumblr.com/)


End file.
